The Violet Mage
by Fluffy The Teddy Bear Slayer
Summary: These Alanna goes to the convent stories are a dime a dozen but this one actually has a plot *collective gasp* Alanna was sent to the University of Magic after she almost drove the Priestesses at the convent crazy. There's MUCH more, so please read.*CH3*
1. Damned Skirts and Open Windows

**My Notes:** I know, these "Alanna goes to the convent" stories are a dime a dozen, but the concept really fascinates me so please be nice and don't kill me for uploading this. I'm happy!  I got reviews for the test chapter (5 to be exact, YAY!) so I decided to add some more of the story in.  The next chapter will be up very soon, but the one after that will take longer.  Just so everyone (if anyone is reading this) knows.

**Disclaimer:  ** If I were Tamora Pierce, which I am not, I wouldn't put this story up on the Internet where it will most likely be ignored for the most part.  If I was Tamora Pierce I would be marveling at my own brilliance and writing stories with George/Me pairings.  I am sad to say, though, that I am NOT Tamora Pierce and therefore, I formally disclaim everything in this story but the actual writing, which is mine.

**ON WITH THE STORY!**

            Alanna of Trebond jovially packed her bags, almost dancing as she did so.  Finally she'd be free from the restraint of the convent!  She could barely control her excitement and felt ready to sing a song Coram had taught her long ago.  She refrained, though, for fear the Priestesses would change their minds as they heard the first few words of the rowdy drinking song.  She almost laughed as she pictured the Head Priestess' face if she had heard the song.  Twirling around the room, Alanna checked for any forgotten items before sealing up her travel pack.  She hoisted up the pack and cursed at her skirts good-naturedly as she hiked them up and walked out of the room in that fashion.

            Outside of her room, Alanna did not drop her skirts but continued to walk with her stockings showing.  The simple act had the desired effect: the future ladies of Corus almost fainted with shock and the Priestesses shook their heads ruefully.  It was better for everyone that the Head Priestess had decided Alanna unfit to become a lady: Alanna had been beginning to frighten the newcomers with her often-humiliating pranks.  

            The non-lady, though, took no notice of her effect on the convent save a tiny private smirk as she passed the Head Priestess.  Her expression seemed to say "You can't control me anymore!"  As she left the large castle-like convent Alanna gave a loud "Whoop!"  And ran to the horse the Priestesses had allowed her to borrow for the ride to the University of Magick.  She saw her escort and rode up to the sour-faced old matron, ignoring the lecture the Priestess was giving about the men at the University and how she should "just say 'No'".  Alanna pulled her hair out of the tight coil-knot on top of her head and relaxed at the sheer joy she felt as she took it down.  It was almost like cutting away the last of the convent's influence.  _Well_, Alanna winced as a stay in her corset pinched her side, _Almost the last bit of influence._  Shaking her head ruefully, Alanna began to watch the landscape, waiting for the ride to be over.

            Back at the convent, in the tiny room the Priestesses reclined in when there were no lessons to be taught and no punishments to be given, one of the Priestesses closed the curtain silently.  Nodding to affirm that Alanna was really gone, the many teachers of the convent clinked glasses of wine together, toasting the leaving of Alanna of Trebond.

                                                                                    **Two Years Later**

            The day dawned bleak and windy; the menacing clouds promised rain later that day.  A deep bell began to chime and the inhabitants of The University of Magick began to rise.  Alanna of Trebond groaned softly as the sound of the bell tore through her dream.  Opening her eyes ever so slightly, she groaned again and mumbled a few curses before sitting up in her small cot.  Rubbing her eyes tiredly, she stumbled out of the cot, instantly yelping as her bare feet touched the cold stone floor.  Jumping back into bed, she scanned the room for her slippers and, finding them on the other side of the room, cursed again.  

            Summoning a tendril of violet power, she directed it at the slippers and _willed_ them to come to her, momentarily forgetting the close tabs the Priests kept on their magick.  Not caring as soon as she remembered, Alanna gladly pulled the slippers on and stepped out of bed again.  Shivering slightly as the cool air of the room hit her bare arms, Alanna glared at the window, which, almost innocently, was ajar.  Not even trying to control her temper, she shrieked.

            "ARRAM!"  Was the word she yelled, and that word seemed to shake the foundation of the University itself.  

            "WHEN I FIND OUT HOW YOU DID THIS, I'LL (censored) (censored) (censored), AND THEN I'LL (censored) (censored) AND (censored)!!"  After Alanna's emotional outburst went down to muttered curses, she rushed forward and slammed the window shut.  

            "I HATE cold!  I hate, loathe, detest, despise, ABHOR cold!"  Adding another shiver for good measure, she sent a thread of magic at the cold fireplace and soon a violet fire was dancing merrily inside the hearth.  Alanna grabbed the bathing basin her room was equipped with and set that before the fire to warm up the almost ice-cold water that was in the basin.  As the water heated, Alanna found a clean pair of breeches and a tunic that only had a few stains and set them out on her chair.  That finished, she dipped a finger in the water to test the temperature.  Finding that it was satisfactory, she used her hands to splash her face and neck.  Wiping her dripping face with a towel, she hurried into the clothes she had set out and rushed out of the room, not willing to miss breakfast.  

            As she ran through the castle, Alanna could not help but notice the drabness of the halls she passed.  _Two years here and I STILL haven't gotten used to it._  She thought.  Finally reaching two large oak doors, she walked through them into a room with an almost staggering noise level.  The room was more of a hall, just as plain as the rest of the castle, and furnished with at least five-dozen tables at which Magically-Gifted students like Alanna sat at, eating and drinking with more noise than humanly thought possible.  Ignoring the din with the air of one well used to meals such as that, Alanna scanned the room with her eyes for a familiar stork-like figure.  She found who she was looking for and walked toward him, glaring at the back of his head so fiercely that one would have almost expected his hair to burst aflame.  When she finally reached the table he was seated at, Alanna crossed her arms and continued to glare at the back of his head.  

A few minutes passed as Alanna glared and the stork-youth ate.  Growing impatient, Alanna cleared her throat expertly.  The youth whirled around quickly and grinned at the glaring maiden.  Many of those seated at the table with the stork-boy moved away from the pair subtly, not wanting to catch Alanna before her breakfast: her temper before food in the morning was very well known at the University ever since her first week when she had conjured up a cloud and made it rain on a boy for three days and nights.  The unfortunate victim had said 'hello' as she sat down to eat.

True, though the boys would not admit it, was the fact that Alanna looked quite intimidating as they moved away from the unfortunate youth who had managed to invoke Alanna's rage before she consumed any food that morning.  With her Fire-Red hair in disarray, her violet eyes snapping, and every delicate feature on her face contorted in rage, she looked like some mythical creature ready to kill its unfortunate victim.  

"Arram!"  She snapped.  The boys who had been slowly inching away from the stork-youth Arram suddenly found reasons to fly from the table.  Arram ignored this as he turned to look at Alanna and smirked slightly.

"Alanna."  He answered, obviously trying quite hard not to laugh.  This only added fuel to the fire in the maiden's eyes.  _That's it,_ she thought savagely, _Before, I was just going to castrate him.  Now I'll disembowel him as well!_  Her thoughts growing increasingly more violent, Alanna began to smile eerily.  Forgetting that Arram was right in front of her, Alanna began imagining ways to torture him.  After a few minutes of this, she sat down placidly and took a roll from one of the plates on the table.  Smiling lightly, Arram watched Alanna as she ate.  When she was finished, her eyes no longer snapped and she seemed much more relaxed.  

            "So, what did I do this time?"  Arram asked good-humouredly, biting into an apple.  

            "You left the window open when you left after studying last night."  Alanna stated plainly, not elaborating on why she had flown into one of her rages about something as trivial as a window; Alanna of Trebond was simply like that in the morning.

            The ringing of the morning bell halted their conversation.  Arram rose from the bench and Alanna followed his suit.  Together, they left the dining hall and trudged off to their first class of the day: Tortall's History with Magick.  As they walked, Alanna studied her friend.  He was seventeen years to her thirteen and towered over her slight frame.  Currently chewing on the last of his apple, Arram had black hair, brown eyes and somewhat ruddy features, though he was very handsome if you like that type of thing.  Tall and thin were the two words best describing Arram and, as stated before, he looked like something of a stork.  Feeling her eyes on him, Arram turned to look at his friend, smirking slightly

            "Didn't they teach you not to stare at that convent of yours?  It's very rude."  Wrinkling her nose at her companion, Alanna replied,

            "They tried.  They failed.  What else is new?"  Chuckling slightly, Arram changed the subject to their studies.  He had learned long ago that it was folly to try getting a straight answer from Alanna about the convent.  Ducking through a tapestry, the friends chatted amiably: light-hearted and childish, they would change all too soon.


	2. Messanger Doves and Skrying Bowls

**My Notes:** I'm happy!  I got 9 reviews for the first chapter!  I'm so proud of myself!  And thank you ALL VERY MUCH for reviewing.  I know I didn't ask for any, but I'm relieved that some people actually took the time to read and review this mediocre piece of work.  I know I lied about having this chapter up soon, but it's almost Winter Break and the teachers seem to want to cram a whole quarter's worth of information into us and it's very stressful so that's my excuse; being dead tired when I'm finished with my homework.  Yep.  This chapter is frighteningly short, but it's 12:00 and I gotta go to school tomorrow so I can't make it any longer…

**Disclaimer:  ** If I were Tamora Pierce, which I am not, I wouldn't put this story up on the Internet where it will most likely be ignored for the most part.  If I was Tamora Pierce I would be marveling at my own brilliance and writing stories with George/Me pairings.  I am sad to say, though, that I am NOT Tamora Pierce and therefore, I formally disclaim everything in this story but the actual writing, which is mine.

**ON WITH THE STORY!**

            George Cooper, King of Thieves, surveyed the room through half-closed eyes over a large cup of ale.  He watched them, his people, as he watched them every night at the popular inn known as The Dancing Dove.  _Home,_ he thought, as he watched plunderers and assassins intermingle with the lower class of Corus.  Taking a sip of the drink before him, George knew that these people, however disreputable and blade-friendly, would not betray him. He knew that they loved him as much as he loved them, and he knew that these men and women would risk their lives for him, despite the fact that many of them were scheming to relieve him of his position as Rogue.

            _But will that be enough?_  The pessimistic part of his mind asked, _The Smiling Duke is gaining power.  The Sweating Sickness is only the beginning; if he finds out that I know, or at least think I know, my followers and I might die sooner than planned._  As the Rogue King finished his ale, he made a decision.  George Cooper was not a coward, and would not suddenly become one because a relative of the King's might kill a few of his people, George included.  George Cooper was not a fool either; he needed allies in high places if he wanted to survive.  Both of these facts in mind, George stood and walked up the stairs to his rooms to write a letter. 

_Stefan,_

The letter started,

_ I need a few parcels delivered to the city.  Send along a list of times when the packages can possibly be delivered._

            He left the letter unsigned, and as The Rogue he had good reason not to sign the paper; if it were ever intercepted, it would mean his head.  Standing from the desk he had seated himself at, George opened the only window in the room and whistled quietly.  The low, musical note rang through the air and a moment later a messenger dove glided into the room.  Wasting no time in tying the letter to the dove's leg, the creature glided out almost as quickly as it had glided in.  Closing the window again, George walked briskly from the room, hoping the "packages" could be sent soon.

            Thom of Trebond watched sullenly as his sister learned magick, the scenes before him playing at a greatly exaggerated rate.  He glared at the pool of water that the skrying bowl held, the water that showed him whatever he wished to see.  Thom sighed slightly as he watched Alanna's Gift become more powerful by the day, soon becoming greater than even Master Si-Cham's own formidable magick.  He watched her and her companion, the late Arram Draper, now known as Numair Salamin, eagerly learn new and more powerful spells.  He sighed again and slouched on the stone bench he was seated upon.  Turning from the bowl in shame, he surveyed his surrounding for perhaps the millionth time since his arrival.  The Black God's domain was anything but comforting, a large space filled with nothing but black and the souls of the dead.  He seemed to be alone at the moment, an uncommon occurrence in the underworld.  Not even his own mother, or the woman who _called_ herself his mother, dared to approach him when he was looking in on his still alive twin.

            Turning back to the bowl, he waved a hand weakly over it and the water became clear again.  Focusing on a face, Thom watched as slowly the person appeared in the bowl. 

            "Duke Roger of Conte" Thom rasped hoarsely, unaccustomed to using his voice.  

            "You will pay for the injustices you have done me.  You will pay with what is dearest to you.  The Throne.  The Crown of Tortall will never be yours."  With a laugh that sounded more like a cough, the pale youth waved his hand over the bowl once again and once again it went blank.  Staring at the darkness before him, Thom wondered what he had done to deserve such a premature death at twelve years of age.  True, he had never cared for much, besides his twin Alanna, but he had not been evil.  Perhaps he had just been a future threat to the Great Duke.  _Well,_ Thom thought, preferring that to hearing his voice, _He WILL pay.  I'll see to it._  

            His musing was interrupted by the appearance of light, so bright that it burned the unfortunate youth's eyes, which were accustomed to darkness.  Thom shrieked, shielding his eyes with his hands.  When the brightness dimmed a little, Thom found himself staring at a large man.  Perhaps the largest he had ever seen.  He was clothed in golden Armour that seemed to fit him perfectly, and at his belt a sword hung, also bright, polished gold.  The youth knew immediately who this was.  

            "Mithros" he breathed, falling to his hands and knees instantly.  Mithros looked at the groveling boy kindly and turned Thom's head up to face him.

            "My son," he rumbled, voice seeming to echo with power, "You have been wronged most severely.  This Duke of Conte, who you have cursed at countless times, murdered you in cold blood.  He murdered the Prince as well.  This smiling Duke must be taught a lesson and you must help me do it."  Thom wrinkled his brow in confusion, 

            "Sir, the prince was murdered?  He died naturally, sir, of the Sweating Sickness.  No one could save him."  Mithros shook his head kindly, 

            "Who do you think SENT the Sweating Sickness?  Can I count on your help or not?"  Thom nodded dumbly, still processing the information that had been given to him.  Suddenly things made much more sense.  Like why the Duke was in Carthak at the time, and why the Sickness only struck the capital.  Mithros smiled,

            "Good."  And with a bright flash of light, the two were gone, the only evidence of their departure an old wooden bowl and spilled water.

Cytosine:  Thanks so much; I'm not really sure how it's turned out so far, but thanks for the positive comment!  Yeah, Avril's evil…damn posers!  Really?  Oops…erm, I guess I should fix that…thanks for telling me!  

**April:**  Yeah, probably, I'm not quite sure yet.  You see; having Alanna afraid of her magic doesn't really work well with the plot I've cooked up so I just changed that for the sake of the story.  Hopefully I come up with a reason for her phobia soon, but if I don't, I'm open to suggestions.

**Keita:**  Yeah, I thought putting Numair in would be a nice coincidence for Alanna and it would save me the trouble of coming up with a whole new character.  I can't make new characters very well.  I'm trying to explain, its just that I'm not quite sure exactly what happened yet so I can't explain right now…I kinda confused myself when I was thinking up possible friends for Thom at the palace and I haven't been completely clear on what's going on since…heh…

**(no name given):** Five dollar chapter, eh?  Thanks for the positive comment!  I hope this is another five-dollar chapter, but I'm not sure…

**Angel of the Storms:** Thanks!  It's actually my nickname…I don't like teddy bears…Numair's cool, he's one of my favorite TP characters…

**Princess Amara of Conte:** Yeah, his name is Arram…I forgot while I was writing the chapter, but I went back and fixed it so now it's all better!  Lol.  I hadn't thought about that, actually…I guess he is younger than her…but I'm changing his age for the story, I guess.  Heh.  You can tell I haven't read the books in a WHILE….I'm actually more of a A/G fan, and I already killed of Jon so it wouldn't work out that well…I could try to do some A/J stuff, though.

**Xelena:** Lol, I like ominous endings…yeah, Roger's gonna play a big part in this story, just not yet.  Right now, I'm trying to explain what's going on to the other main characters in the story and how their lives are affected by Alanna's not being there.

**Blue Roses: **Wow…I'm speechless…thank you!  I think there are a lot of better stories out there than mine, but thank you!

**DivaLuna:** Thank you, and you're welcome…that sounded weird….Lol.


	3. GodsCursed Wall Hangings and an Unpleasa...

My Notes: Hey there, Person-who-is-reading-my-story!  I've got a few announcements to make before the story starts, so I'll try to make them quick.  Yes, I know, I haven't updated in FOREVER but my muse abandoned me and that's no fun.  I finally started writing last night and I just finished this chapter, so I'm posting it.  Please keep in mind that I love constructive criticism and I don't seem to be getting much, so I'm encouraging everyone who will be honest about my story and say if they think it sucks to review.  I don't care if you flame.  Next announcement: I'd like a beta-reader…I don't know if anyone's interested but I'd really like to get a second opinion before I post these things.  Yes, I'm a bit self-conscious about my writing.  Final announcement: I found an interesting way to name all of Alanna's teachers that weren't mentioned in the books and I'd like to ask everyone to guess where I got the names from. The person who guesses will get a chapter dedicated to them and my thanks.  That's all.

Disclaimer: I'm not Tamora Pierce.  Duh.  I don't own anyone but myself…and my kitty Calvin, but he likes to attack me so I don't really own him.  

ON WITH THE STORY!

Alanna of Trebond cursed quietly but steadily as she ran through the halls of her gigantic, prison-like university, a croissant in one hand and her books in the other.  Damned Scholars! she thought hotly as she skidded past the kitchens for the third time that morning, They just HAD to build this place like a labyrinth, didn't they?  Alanna shrieked a word that would have made even the hardiest knight turn as white as a sheet as she passed the kitchens again.  She strode into the afore-mentioned rooms, demanding directions to her primary classroom of the day.

The cooks, much to Alanna's dismay, began laughing at her as she voiced her plea and quickly pointed her down a small corridor behind a tapestry of a major happening for magic in Tortall.  And those stupid year-mates of mine just HAD to make it harder for me by waking up earlier than I did so I wouldn't be able to follow anyone to class!  Alanna proceeded to mutter curses at everyone from the First Daughter of the convent to the weaver of the Gods-cursed tapestry the cooks had pointed her through as she ran down the narrow corridor, chewing on her croissant.  

"Even Arram, scratch that, Numair, forgot about poor little Alanna of Trebond," she continued to herself, now passing narrow doors through which she could hear classes beginning, "No one thinks of the little people!"  Alanna finished with a slight raise of her voice as she finally found the door to her first class, swallowed the rest of her breakfast, and entered the room quietly.  The redhead was painfully conscious of every eye in the room upon her but one, which belonged to the one-eyed stuffed finch the priest who taught this class (Master Bina, Advanced Magick) liked to keep on his desk, as she timidly slid into her usual seat by the late Arram Draper, now Numair Salamin, who nodded at her in greeting and turned toward the shorter-than-Alanna Master.  

Master Bina was a small, slightly pot-bellied priest, whose greatest thrill in life was selecting new material for his many classes.  He was also very unsure of himself and rarely gave out punishments for fear of his students disliking him.  So, of course, when Alanna arrived late for his class, the soft-spoken man simply imitated her friend in nodding at her and resumed his lesson.  Sighing slightly, Alanna relaxed and began playing with the hem of her orange robe.  

She remembered all too well the grueling exams she had to go through to reach the orange robe, which showed the world that she was a Dedicate of Magick.  Soon enough, the girl promised herself, I'll don the Red robe and be a Master, the first female Master in quite some time.  Thank Gods, she thought with a grin, For my father.  If he had never sent me to the convent, I wouldn't have had this chance.  Of course, being a knight WOULD be better, but… The chiming of a deep bell that symbolized the end of her first class interrupted Alanna's musings.  Standing, she walked from the room at a brisk pace, not stopping to wait for Numair, although she would most likely get lost without his guidance.  The years had done nothing to better Alanna's navigational skills, which were weak, at best.  

"'Lanna, wait up!"  Came a voice from behind her.  The redhead simply stuck up her nose and quickened her pace, having not an inkling of where she was headed anyway.  From behind her, Numair Salamin shook his head at his best friend, taking longer strides to catch up with her.  Numair, always resembling something of a stork because of his thin-and-tall body build, had no trouble keeping up with Alanna, taking only slightly longer strides than he usually did.  

"So, divine lady Alanna-who-knows-all, where is Mithros's name are we going?  Our next class is in the other direction…" He stated with a slight grin.  Rolling her eyes, Alanna stopped suddenly and turned the other direction, starting up again that way.  Indulging in a full smile, Numair also turned to follow Alanna.  The pair ambled in silence for a few minutes, and only a few minutes, for minutes, if not moments, after they had started in that direction, Alanna uttered a curse after tripping on one of the slightly uneven stones that made up the floors of the University.  Glaring at the floor, Alanna began hopping down the corridor on one foot, the other foot currently in her arms.  Numair smiled again, fondly, at his unofficial sister, who, no matter what, managed to trip over something.  

Reaching the classroom, Numair stopped, and raised his mobile eyebrow at his friend, who was still hopping down the corridor with as much dignity as she could muster while caressing her injured foot with one hand and attempting to balance her many books with the other.  Clearing his throat loudly, Numair made a show of slowly striding into the room, not bothering to mask his satisfaction as Alanna hopped in behind him, sitting down near the only window.  Numair sat down next to her, yawning as the priest who taught this class entered with a bang, literally, as he threw down his books.  Tortallian Geography taught by Master Poorna-Kalash.  Honestly, Numair didn't know why they bothered.  No one enjoyed the class, with the exception of Alanna, who was mental anyway, at least in Numair's opinion.  

The class started, and most of the students had already sunk into their usual stupor before Master P. Kalash had commenced calling role.  With the exception, of course, of Alanna, who was listening avidly and taking notes, to boot.  What there was to take notes of was a mystery to Numair, and the rest of the class as well, in all probability, but his mental friend always found something to take notes on in this particular class.  And as long as Alanna took notes, he could catch up by copying them, so Numair wasn't complaining…much.  

"Very well," began the Master, "We will begin with a brief review of what we have learned so far.  I believe you all know how this goes by now; I ask a question and whoever knows the answer raises their hand and waits politely to be called upon."  He was met with the usual silence that greeted him whenever the Priest asked a question.  Taking this as confirmation, the freakishly tall Master continued by asking a question of his class.

"What is the one city built by the Bazhir that stands to this day?"  He was met with silence.  The Master shifted slightly from foot to foot and added, "Its purpose was to watch over the Black City…?"  To no one's surprise, Alanna's hand shot up.  With a slight nod to her from the priest, Alanna answered, "Persopalis."  

"Very good."  Master Poorna-Kalash smiled at his pupil and continued with the questions,

"Here's an easy one: where is the University of Magick located?"  Alanna raised her hand once again.  "Anyone…?"  Poorna-Kalash laughed in disbelief, "A fine bunch of scholars you lot are; the only one in my entire class who can answer this question is a girl who was kicked out of her Convent!"  Titters erupted from the back of the classroom at the reference to Alanna's "disrespectful" past.  The girl in question glowered at her teacher and lowered her arm with a dangerous glare toward the back of the room.  The snickers were stifled immediately and a few young scholars were surprised to find themselves unable to open their mouths.  

"Remember, 'Lanna, making your teachers explode is NOT a good thing," whispered Numair to his friend, whose ears seemed to have steam coming from them.  But, intoxicated with his success, Master Poorna-Kalash continued to make fun of his star pupil, unaware of the danger he was putting himself into.  

"Does no one here have any more brains than a tom boy with an attitude problem?  Anyone?"  Now the whole classroom was completely silent and said girl was turning a very interesting shade of red in her rage.  Finally seeing Alanna, the priest added hastily,

"Of course, there's nothing WRONG with being a tomboy…. I mean, of course there's something wrong with it, but we all grow out of it."  He finished lamely.  Raising her hand slowly, a very angry Alanna glared at her teacher as if daring him to call on her.  Shifting from foot to foot again, the thoughrally frightened master debated calling on her or not with himself.  Finally deciding on the former, the master nodded to his pupil, who spoke four words with such venom that the class could imagine them horrible curses with meanings so disgustingly vulgar that a sailor would banish them from his vocabulary for fear of them being too colorful.

"City of the Gods."

"What?"  Asked the befuddled Professor, so sure only moments before that she would turn him into something grotesquely unnatural.  

"City of the Gods," Alanna repeated, "The University of Magick is located in the City of the Gods."

Nodding, slightly relieved, Master Poorna-Kalash answered, "Correct."

It was then that a quiet but echoing knock came on the door.  "Enter," rumbled the Master, glad at the diversion.  A small errand-boy came in and whispered something to the effect of, 

"Master Si-cham requires the presence of one: Dedicate Alanna of Trebond."  

"Dedicate Alanna will come as soon as her lesson is finished," said Poorna-Kalash with a slight tone of haughtiness in his voice.  It seems, thought Alanna with a slightly evil smirk, That Master Poorna-Kalash's pride has been returned.

"Please, sir," squeaked the frightened boy, "Master Si-cham was quite insistent that she come without delay."

"Very well," drawled the Master, "You are excused, Dedicate Alanna."  Standing, Alanna dipped her head slightly at the classroom in the way of adieu and swept from the room with as much grace as a court lady, though, upon thinking of it later, Numair was quite baffled by his usually clumsy friend's newfound elegance.

Walking behind the messenger-boy, Alanna had to fight to keep up with the wiry boy-child, who was much quicker than he had originally looked.  They walked in silence, which was better for both parties, because the poor boy was quite intimidated by the living, breathing, Alanna of Trebond, whose reputation as an evil witch had preceded her by far, and because Alanna did not think she could tolerate polite conversation at the moment.  Master Poorna-Kalash's comment had stung, even if she unwilling to admit it publicly.  

Upon arriving at Master Si-cham's chambers, Alanna paused only briefly to contemplate what he had requested her presence for.  She had done nothing very serious lately, or, at least, so serious that the Master of the school would have to discuss it with her.  Shrugging to herself, Alanna entered the room and seated herself in a hard, carved wood chair directly in front of a desk of the same wood as the chair.  Looking around the room, the girl had to admit that the Master of the University lived fairly well.  The curtains in the windows were a chocolate brown, almost the same shade as the polished wood furniture that inhabited the room.  There was a thick rug on the floor, also brown, and the only other piece of furniture in the room, other than the desk and chairs, and of course the book shelves filled with, what else, books, was a large cabinet, also wood, the purpose of which was a mystery to Alanna, though she guessed it contained information on each student in the school.  Master Si-cham was seated behind the desk in a chair of the same wood as the rest of the furniture in the room, but with a small seat cushion.  

The Master surveyed Alanna through half-closed eyes, dreading the reaction he would receive when he told her the news a messenger had brought just that morning.  Crying maidens were not the old man's area of expertise, and he was sure that the girl would cry at least once after he told her what he needed to.  Clearing his throat, the red-robed old man began,

"Alanna, new has reached us…"

"News?"  She asked with a cocked eyebrow, "What kind of news?"

"Bad news.  Alanna, it's about your brother…"

"Thom?"  Alanna laughed, "What has he done this time?  Did he break a bone?  What?"

"No, no, nothing like that."  Master Si-cham sighed and rubbed his temples, deciding on a different approach.

"Have you heard of the mysterious disease circulating around Corus?"  He asked, "Some call it the Sweating Sickness."

"Of course," Alanna scoffed, "Who hasn't heard of the Sweating Sickness?"

"Then you are aware, Alanna, that the Prince has died from this disease?"  Alanna nodded, confused as to what the Prince dieing had to do with her,

"Well, the Prince is not the only one who has been killed by this Sickness…that is…" Master Si-cham watched his student become more and more confused, finally deciding to tell her outright,

"Alanna, the Sickness has claimed your brother."

(No name given): Here's some more…it's late, but it's more…^^;

Loki-goddess of destruction: Wow…my story is nifty!  COOL!  Yeah, it's all partially explained in this chapter.  Err…well…I wrote more…not soon, but it's more…

Glowbird: Thanks!  And yes, she was, but it doesn't really fit with the plot to have her afraid of her Gift, so I'm changing Alanna's character slightly in this story…I mean, if YOU were stuck in a convent for years and the only way to get out was to use your magic, wouldn't you do it?  I guess the thought of escaping the Convent made Alanna get over her fear…or, at least, that's my theory…

Blue Roses: Thank you…I don't particularly like that chapter, but thanks all the same!  Actually, I tried not to change Thom too much, but it said in the books that he cared about his sister, so I'm going off that.  Yeah, my change-of-P.O.V.s could use some work, but I'm trying…you realize, though, that the last chapter was written at about 12:00 a.m. on a school night so it definitely won't be one of the best ones I write…at least I hope…heh

Ananda: Thank you, I hope you like it!

Angel of Hope: Thank you!  I really tried to be original in this, but I wasn't sure if someone else wrote one like it or not…I guess not…Thanks again!

AleniaOceanstar: Really?  Wow…that really means a lot to me, someone saying that I stayed somewhat true to the original characters…

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